


The Perfect Copy

by rubyfiamma



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Parallel Universes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 16:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15416967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubyfiamma/pseuds/rubyfiamma
Summary: In a time where it is possible yet illegal to jump between parallel planes, a man tortured by his past breaks the law to bring a cure to worlds being ravaged by an ancient disease that turns humans into hideous and deadly creatures. Will Yukio Kasamatsu succeed in saving them from The Scour or will the truth behind his actions bring about the apocalypse?Submission for Limitless: A Kuroko no Basuke Fanzine (2018)





	The Perfect Copy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [for_the_saba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/for_the_saba/gifts).



> This was a collaboration between myself and @for-the-saba on tumblr. You can find the artwork for our piece [here](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Limitless/works/15417480).
> 
> Stay tuned for an uncut version to this story and possibly a chaptered prologue.

**The Perfect Copy  
**

* * *

  
  
The soles of his boots slap against the cracked pavement, echoing throughout the empty streets. Every muscle in his body aches and his lungs burn, pleading for the chance to catch a breath. He’s been on the run consistently since he jumped to this tangent a month ago, but it’ll all be worth it if Yukio can find  _him_.

Distracted by the memory of a life no more, Yukio slams into something solid, _hard_. He’s torn from his reverie in a panic, confronted by a very large fiend.

This one seems blind, corneas covered in a milky film, searching for an assailant way above Yukio's head. Fully turned, its weathered skin stretches thinly over its hairless body. The ears are elongated and pointed. What were once human teeth are now serrated conical death traps, capable of shredding through flesh and bone.

He tries not to make a sound but his boots skid to a halt, scattering gravel in every direction. He hopes the noise goes unnoticed but to his dismay, the creature lets out a blood-curdling screech; a cochlea-shattering octave that isn't meant to fall on human ears.

“ _Shit_ ,” Yukio groans. The ground teeters beneath him as his head is filled with a shrill ringing. Colours start to blur, vertigo sets in as he covers his ears. That’s when he spots it. Behind the fiend, lay a single piece of wood propped up against a dumpster. It’s sustainable enough to use as a weapon and he can get to it if he just follows his training.

 _Your training doesn't prepare you for the unexpected,_ he reminds himself. _Nothing does._

He quickly pivots around the fiend. Yukio doesn't have to look behind him to know that the rest of them are closing in, dragging their contorted limbs along the ground. He can feel their hot breath on his neck as they snarl into his ear and the scraping of their broken fingernails as they tug at his clothing. Fingers close around his ankle and Yukio loses his footing. He's too stunned to think about throwing his hands out to protect him and ends up hitting the ground face first. His skin scrapes against the uneven pavement, searing pain snapping through his synapses. The wind knocks out of him before he can catch a breath. He rolls over and is immediately pinned down. Yukio tries to struggle free but is suddenly frozen in fear when the blind fiend pounces on him. He can smell the rot and decay of the creature as it inches closer to his face. He squeezes his eyes shut as something sharp pierces his leg. It’s useless to continue fighting; he’ll be dead in a matter of seconds at this rate. An inexplicable wave of calm washes over him as he accepts his fate. It seems only fitting that this be his end too.

Then, something happens, and Yukio's arms are freed. A heavy weight is lifted from his chest quite literally. He can hear squeals and cries of fiends off in the distance but he's too afraid to open his eyes. It’s only when he no longer hears the screams of agony from the mutated humans that he does, and the breath he had thought left his lungs long ago, now does so in a rush of heat.

Above him is a man bathed in the ethereal glow of dusk with the golden ring of the setting sun adorning his head like a halo. His hair is different; long in the front, shaved at the sides. It's messy and uneven as if he had taken a straight razor and carelessly hacked through random fistfuls. “Hey,” he says, pulling down a scarf to reveal a smile so bright that it rivals sunlight. He has the same pattern of freckles across his nose. Setting down his weapon, he extends a thick-gloved hand and chuckles. “Looks like I got here just in time.” His voice is saccharine, his laugh is vibrant. He’s different yet the same and everything Yukio’s been searching for.

Afraid of what sounds he might make or the trembling of his hand if he takes the other's, Yukio turns away and pushes himself up on his knuckles. Pain shoots up his leg when he puts his weight on his left foot and he falters, only to be caught by the collar of his jacket.

“Oh, you're injured.” Yukio can hear him frowning as he leans in to inspect the wound. “Hopefully it isn't a bite. I’ve got a place nearby, we can clean you up there.”

“No,” Yukio rasps, jerking his foot away from his touch. He manages to stand on his own, even adding weight to his injured foot. The pain isn't so bad; nothing could be, he imagines, compared to the crushing pressure he feels in his chest. “I'm… I'm fine.”

“Well, I don't know about you but I really need to get back. It's going to be dark soon and it won't be long until another mass of fiends start making their way here. This area's mostly clear and I've already cleaned out most of the houses of their supplies, but if you want to take your chances alone then, good luck."

Afraid of losing the only chance he’ll get, he gives an assertive nod, cementing his decision — even if Yukio is uncertain it’s the right one. “I’ll come with you.”

“Great,” he says as he bends down to grab his weapon. It's a long makeshift polearm, standing at nearly six feet, inches away from his full height. It’s fashioned out of what looks like a metal pipe with an axe head welded to a rusty circular saw blade, making it twice as deadly. “You can call me Kise, by the way.”

Yukio bites his tongue on an ‘ _I know_ ’ and mutters, “Yukio… Yukio Kasamatsu.”

Kise grins, and Yukio catches the glimpse of a sparkle in his eyes. “Nice to meet you, Yukio Kasamatsu.”

He clears his throat, a wasted attempt to choke back the lump forming there. “Nice to meet you too… Kise.”

 

* * *

 

They arrive at a cabin tucked away in the woods without incident. Once inside, Yukio takes the first aid kit and saunters off to the bathroom to check on his wound. Sitting on the edge of a filthy bathtub, he peels back his pant leg tacky with blood and becomes nauseated when he’s faced with a bite mark. His veins are visible beneath his skin, gone black with decaying blood, wrapping up his calf like climbing vines. Yukio’s heart sinks deeper with despair as he begins cleaning it as best he can. He decides he won’t tell Kise about his wound. Yukio can’t help but selfishly indulge in this respite if only briefly, no matter the destructive consequences it may bring. He keeps telling himself it will all be worth it in the end.

When Yukio enters the living space, he finds Kise smiling at him. It takes everything in him not to break down right there. “I made some tea,” he says, handing him a mug.

“Thank you.” Yukio wraps his hands around the cup, the warmth well welcomed now that his extremities are numbing. He smiles despite this and takes a seat at a small table. He recalls the ratio of fiends to humans, especially in rural areas and asks, “Why aren’t there any military here? There should be Scour Task Forces to help with the elimination of fiends.”

Kise sits at the other end of the table and raises a thin eyebrow. “I’ve never heard of a Scour Task Force before but our government stopped sending in military when their posts were overrun and soldiers became infected. We’ve been on our own a long time now... What is a Scour Task Force?”

Yukio takes a sip of his tea. The heat blooms in his chest and helps thaw the iciness in his veins. “The Scour is a parasitic disease that sweeps through the tangents every few thousand years, said to be some cosmic way of resetting the universe, some sort of ‘cleansing’. When infected, the host experiences mass cell death and undergoes the mutation from human to fiend. Once the parasites take over the brain, the only instinct it possesses is to survive, which is why it needs to consume human flesh —”

“How is it that you know so much about the infection when our sector has been completely in the dark?” Kise sets his elbow on the table, rests his chin on the back of his hand and narrows his eyes.

Yukio doesn’t answer right away. He feels as if he’s diffusing a bomb and one wrong move will cause his demise. He may not be ready to reveal the truth for fear of chasing Kise away, but it might just save them. After all, he must have brought the chrysalis along for a reason. So he takes a breath and prepares for the worst. “I’m not from this tangent.”

“No way!” Kise exclaims in disbelief. He chokes out a sardonic laugh. “Even if you had a device that somehow got you to one world to another, tangent jumping is illegal because it causes rifts in the time mesh, not to mention the consequences caused by possible conflicting alter egos. Do you think I’m some kind of idiot?”

“No, and it’s true. I’ve been to four tangents before this one, all different and I haven’t met an alter ego yet —”

“Why did you start jumping in the first place? To escape the infection? _Did you bring it here with you?_ Just who are you and why have you come here?!”

“I’ll tell you if you’d just shut up and let me,” Yukio snaps. Kise falls silent as his mouth puckers into a petulant pout. He crosses his arms across his chest and stares at Yukio expectedly, so he wastes no time explaining. “My world has possessed the ability to jump for hundreds of years but after the Ripple Incident, it was banned across all tangents.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ve heard of all that,” Kise interjects with the dismissive wave of his hand. “It was a total disaster, but I don’t care about any of it. What I want to know is why did _you_ come here?”

Yukio reaches into his pouch, pulling out a glowing blue chrysalis. “I have a cure.”

Kise blinks, a look of incredulity crosses his features as he reaches for the object. “No,” he says, shaking his head in denial. “ _How?_ ” He rolls the chrysalis around in his hand and Yukio watches as his face twists in anger.  “There is no cure — our government would have told us if there was a cure! Why would they keep this from us?  It’s  _impossible!_ ”

“A cure doesn’t exist here yet,” grinds Yukio. He’s finding it very hard to keep his patience with all the questions, despite knowing the outcome of this revelation wouldn’t be easily accepted. “This serum is made up of components found only on my tangent.”

He slams his empty fist onto the table. The tremors spill Yukio’s tea. “You’re lying! There’s no cure! Why would you come here if your tangent was clean? Do you expect me to believe you risked your life to bring some random tangent the cure for a disease thousands of years old? What about the other tangents before this? Why didn’t you stop there —”

“Those tangents were ravaged!” Yukio shouts. As he does this, he can feel his lungs balloon and cling to his ribs before slowly deflating. The organs make an unpleasant snapping sound upon detaching. The infection is spreading faster than he had anticipated. “If I can get it to the Infectious Disease Center or any pharmaceutical company in the city for processing, then we can start inoculating people — _curing_ them.”

“How can you be so sure there’s anyone left? And if there is, by some miracle, what do you expect them to do with a serum foreign to this tangent? How long will it take for them to create a vaccination? By then, everyone could be dead.” Kise’s mouth curls into a vicious sneer. “How do I know I can trust _you_?”

Yukio swallows, remembering a time when there was ever a doubt. "You can trust me.” He reaches out and grabs on to the hand that holds the chrysalis. Kise’s eyes widen, his body tenses. He opens his mouth but no sound comes out. Yukio takes the opportunity to say something he wished he could have said long ago. “Please,” he begs, “Just… Just let me save you.”

After a stretch of silence that feels like an eternity, Kise turns his hand so that the chrysalis fits between both their palms. “Okay… I’ll take you into the city. We leave tomorrow at dawn.”

 

* * *

 

The cabin is not very big and aside from the kitchen table and chairs, the only other furniture is one tattered two seater sofa crammed into the living room, facing the fireplace. He doesn’t dare lie down, not yet. He no longer has any feeling in his legs, his heart struggles to pump stagnant blood through his veins. The sickness is moving rapidly, he isn’t sure he’ll make it to morning.

“Kise… if anything happens to me, promise me you’ll take the serum to the right people.”

“Of course… But, you’re with me now and I’ve already saved your ass once. We’ll get there together.”

Yukio huffs a laugh as Kise covers him with a square of thin wool. “There’s only one blanket,” he says apologetically as he joins Yukio on the sofa. “You looked like you could use it.”

“Thanks.” He struggles to absorb the heat of the other’s body but can remember what it feels like and Yukio’s heart flutters still. He stares at the crackling fire dreading the empty silence, wanting to say so many things now that he hasn’t much time left. “I’m sorry,” he begins softly. Guilt spirals sharply around his heart as if it were made of barbed wire. “If I had only gotten here sooner.”

Kise turns to face him. The glow of fire dances across his face and glistens off the small chains dangling in loops from his ears. “You’re here now.” He smiles, so fond and familiar that Yukio loses himself in the nostalgia of a person who no longer exists.

He wishes he hadn’t miscalculated. He wishes that his jumper device hadn’t broken two days after his arrival. He wishes he could have just a little more time. This will be the only chance he gets.

“I lost someone,” he spews out on a breath. “Very important... We were part of the Scour Task Forces. Our jobs were to collect the infected for inoculation and burn any that couldn’t be saved. During a routine check, we ran into a nest and… he was killed.”

Kise bites his lip and Yukio prays he doesn’t see the tears that are threatening to fall. He remains silent as if he’s waiting for Yukio to say more, and he might have if it wasn’t for the feel of icy, hardening veins crawling up his neck. Then, “Did you love him?”

The ache of temptation burns in Yukio’s chest; his hands yearn for soft skin under his fingertips; his lips tremble for the warmth of a kiss, a familiar taste that’s fading away on the tip of his tongue. He wants to say _I’ve missed you;_ he wants to say _I’ve needed you;_ he wants to say _God, yes, I loved you_ but his breath hitches, catches wet in his throat. “Very much.”

His vision blurs around the edges and it’s not the sudden onslaught of tears that causes it. Delirium begins to set in and Yukio loses his grip on reality as memories from his past begin overlapping with his present. He sees him;  that bright smile, those beautiful brown eyes with flecks of gold if you looked deep enough. Yukio hears his name drawn out against the shell of his ear, feels the plush touch of his lips lingering there.

Kise asks tentatively, “What was he like?” and Yukio feels the world begin to slip through his fingers. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, resting his forehead against Kise’s. Yukio can’t tell if it’s an illusion but Kise doesn’t move away, instead, he gazes at him through thick, curtained lashes. Yukio can no longer resist the urge to cup his face, slide thumbs across the warmth in the other’s cheeks and sob, “Like you… Ryōta… He was the perfect copy of you.”

His last thought is of him whispering _I’m sorry I couldn’t save you_ against Kise’s lips. Yukio never gets the chance to know what comes next.

 

* * *

 

The alarm switches on with the usual morning broadcast and Yukio stirs under the peaking warmth of light through the curtains.

“ _...another tangent falls victim to The Scour, sources say. Though Tangent 11-K has been able to find a cure for the disease, they continue to hold out on sharing any information with the other governments. However, they have started a bidding war_ —”

Yukio reaches over and shuts off the radio. “When are they going to learn,” he grumbles, rolling over. He isn’t quite ready to rise from this cocoon of warmth.

A leg swings over his midsection, an arm flops over his chest, a face buries into the crook of his neck. “What are you mumbling about?”

“Move over, you brat,” Yukio growls without any real barb, throwing the now bunched up covers off them.

“Hey!” comes a squawk, then he’s being pinned to the mattress and met with a very disapproving glare.

Yukio can’t help but grin, especially when the other’s face softens as he tucks a lock of long, blond hair behind a jewel-adorned ear. Yukio brushes fingers across his shoulder, glides them down the dip of his spine.

“Mm… good morning,” he hums hazily.

Yukio tips his chin and presses his lips to an unsuspecting but heavenly smile. “Good morning, Ryōta.”


End file.
